


When Ember Turns to Flame

by Shadowkirby135



Series: Burn Brighter [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Fluff, I repeat NO ROMANCE, Magical Stiles Stilinski, No Romance, Ray totally acts like an older brother, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 09:35:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19206706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowkirby135/pseuds/Shadowkirby135
Summary: For the first time in a long time, Ray Palmer had no idea how he was going to fix something."Are you ok, Mister?""OH SWEET MOTHER OF--," Ray jolted, ripped from his thoughts and brought to the ground, muttering a curse under his breath. Lifting his eyes, he was met with the sight of a child, no more than nine or ten.





	When Ember Turns to Flame

"'It'll be _easy'_ , they said. 'It'll be _fun'_ , they said."

Ray's sarcastic mental rant fueled his inner fire, irritation long gone and replaced by something much more potent.

"'Just use this to signal the ship once you're finished and we'll get you.' 'Oh no, Ray, it'll be _fine_.'"

Stomping his foot on the ground in frustration, he growled under his breath, cursing at Sara for putting him through this.

"It's not like the beacon is fucking useless without the parts you forgot to tell me were _broken._ "

Ray closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get a hold of his temper before he made a scene in the past. Reopening them, he took a clearer look at the remote in his hands, clinically and apathetically cataloging each odd and end in his only way home.

His inspection of the beacon continued for what felt like hours, and Ray could feel his face fall further and further. By the time he reached the end of his inspection, his eyes were dull and he could feel the strain from frowning. There were several components that needed to be soldered and fused together, which will be a problem in of itself.

Making a mental note to add a focused laser to the ATOM suit, he felt his eyebrows crease in annoyance and irritation as he looked down into the rest of the mangled device.

For the first time in a long time, Ray Palmer had no idea how he was going to fix something.

"Are you ok, Mister?"

"OH SWEET MOTHER OF--," Ray jolted, ripped from his thoughts and brought to the ground, muttering a curse under his breath. Lifting his eyes, he was met with the sight of a child, no more than nine or ten. He looked closer, and felt himself stiffen. The boy was withdrawn on himself and while that was clearly upsetting the empathetic scientist, that wasn't the worst thing Ray saw.

It was his eyes.

Eyes that should have been bright and curious reflected what he had seen in Oliver. In Barry. In the Legends.

After Anna.

Bringing himself out of his dark memories, he looked at the boy once more. The darkness in the kid's eyes was gone, replaced by the standard childlike wonder.

"Hey! Hey Mister! Hey! Hey! Hey! What's in your hand? Can I see it?"

Ray took another deep breath, berating himself for seeing things that clearly weren't there. Moving around to be at eye level with the kid, he gave a soft smile and addressed him.

"Hey, little guy. Are you lost?"

Puffing out his chest, the kid huffed and replied, "I'm not lost!"

Ignoring the kid's inquiries and bravado, he kept up his smile and spoke, completely unaware of the damage he was about to cause.

"Where's your mom? Did she leave you alone out here?"

The kid's expression faltered, pain written across his face while his eyes dulled and glazed over. The crack in his facade lasted less than a second, and before Ray knew it the mask was back in place.

So he hadn't imagined it.

"She's gone. What's in your hand? What is it? I wanna see!"

Ray was thinking of ways he could get out of this situation, but before he knew it the kid was reaching for the device in his hand. When Ray pushed him away, he wasn't expecting to be fought, and now he was stuck holding a flailing child at arm's length.

"Giveitgiveitgiveitgiveitgiveitgiveitgiveit! I wanna seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!"

Unable to help himself, Ray laughed.

"Whoa there, kiddo. Only my friends can see it, and I know all my friends names."

"I'm Stiles!" The little kids hand shot out eagerly, and Ray got ready to show him the beacon when he realized Stiles was waiting for him to shake his hand. Laughing again, he reached out to shake it.

"I'm Raymond, but my friends call me Ray."

He took his hand back, and right away Stiles eyed the beacon.

"Hi Ray! We're friends now! So that means you can show me the thingamabob in your hand!"

"Well," Ray held the broken beacon in front of Stiles, "I'm actually from the future, so I need this to get back home."

"Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...I WANNA HELP!!"

"I'm sure you do kiddo, but I'm not sure if you can," the genuine sadness in Stiles' expression made Ray feel bad, but before he could say anything Stiles' was already speaking.

"I can help! Really! See that thing there? That goes with this thing here, and this goes over there."

Ray paused for a moment, but glancing at Stiles and his determined expression, he saw he clearly wouldn't let this go. Deciding to humor him, he held the beacon and looked at what Stiles was pointing at when he referred to 'this thing' and 'that thing'. Taking the loose wire and holding it against the port, Ray jumped back when it sparked. His eye widened and his jaw dropped.

Stiles was right.

Bringing his eyes back to the kid, he was met with a puffed out chest and a wide grin.

"See? I told you I could help!"

"And you were right," Ray stood up, the beacon in one hand and the other already placed outward to placate a now bouncing and frowning Stiles.

"Whoa, buddy. I'm not leaving. I just need to grab some things from the hardware store across the street. We'll need them to fix the remote."

"But we don't need that! I can do it!"

Sighing and trying to figure out the best way to gently tell the kid he couldn't, Ray replied, "You've been a big help so far, and I do want your help fixing this. But what you figured out, well, fixing it needs something that we don't have."

"I know that silly! I can use my magic!"

"Your...magic?" Ray lifted an eyebrow, trying his best not to let any disbelief or condescension show up on his face. The kid was smart, and Ray had a feeling he'd notice.

"Yeah!" Stiles' eyes started to lose their happy glint while he continued to speak, "my mom told me I had it before she left."

Ray was about to ask what Stiles meant by 'left' when he froze, thinking back on his first impression of the boy. Hunched over and eyes dull, a fragile boy wearing a fragile mask cracked by any mention of his absent mother.

She didn't leave, and she wasn't gone.

She was dead.

He could only guess that Stiles' mother knew what was happening, and gave her child something to hold onto after she was gone. Something to connect them. Hold them together. Something that would make him special.

Ray thought it was rather cruel.

Taking a deep breath, he racked his brain for ways to properly address an attention-starved child who was too smart for his own good. Ray knew he should tell Stiles the truth, even if it wasn't his place, but the memory of how his face fell when he asked about his mother--it was enough to let Ray believe in magic.

If only for a little while.

"I'm sure she's right, buddy. How about this? I'm going to head to the hardware store across the street to get a couple things, and after you've used your magic we can use what I got for anything that's left," Smiling at Stiles, he turned around and started walking, all the while trying to think of something to tell him after his magic didn't help.

Stiles watched as Ray walked into the store, clearly intent on finding something to help fix the problem he didn't believe he could actually solve.

As soon as he disappeared behind the doors, Stiles glanced at the broken piece of tech in his hand. No longer having to worry about having an audience, he let his grip over his spark loosen. His body relaxing at the welcome warmth in his chest, he turned his full attention to Ray's beacon. His grin started to fade, giving way to the grief and sorrow he'd been hiding for so long. No longer having to focus on keeping up his mask, he pulled at the warmth in his chest and felt his spark react.  The manifestation of his magic and belief, his spark, took form in his palm. A small flame tinted a blue-gray around the edges.

Dimmed and discolored by his emotional scars, Stiles' ignored the reason behind it while he reached out with his mind and his magic. Ray needed his help, and even though he was only humoring him, it was more than anyone had done for him in a long time.

So for the first time since she died, he put his mom to the back of his mind and _believed_.

The flame in his hand started to move, his fingers sparking as he directed it toward Ray's broken beacon. It danced through the air, shrinking and multiplying until they were countless, floating around Stiles and the beacon like starlight dancing to a rhythm no one could hear. Slowly they descended, finding each broken part and fixing it in a spark of light and flash of fire. They continued to dance around, then all of a sudden everything stilled. The light vanished and the beacon laid whole in his hands.

Ray walked out of the hardware store and crossed the street, thinking of different ways that he could try to fix the beacon while also most likely dealing with a distraught child not knowing why he couldn't do magic. Schematics flew through his head while he thought of the best thing to say to Stiles, making his way back to where he left the boy. He raised his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts, smiling to himself when he saw not only was he still there but he was grinning. He jogged over to him, wondering what had him so excited.

"Hey Stiles, what's got you smiling so much?"

"Look Ray! I fixed it!"

Ray's eyes drifted down to the beacon in Stiles' hands, and he was right. There it was, clearly in one piece and operational.

"You..you fixed it."

"Yeah!"

"H-how?"

"I used my magic! I used my spark! Just like I said I would."

"Magic? Y-you used magic?"

Still grinning, Stiles nodded his head and proudly held out his hand. His fingers sparked momentarily before the tinted flame manifested in his palm. Seconds passed like hours, and Stiles' grin fell a bit when Ray didn't move or say a word.

"R-ray?"

He stayed silent, and Stiles began to worry. His magic liked Ray, he had no idea why, but it did. It felt right to show him, but now Stiles was worried he'd made a mistake. Just as the worry started to settle in, Ray laughed.

"I can't believe you used magic! That's incredible! I'm sorry I didn't believe you at first."

"That's ok! Most people wouldn't but my magic said you would and my magic's always right!"

Happy to see the childlike wonder and pride back in Stiles, Ray knelt down to be closer to his height and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Good job, Mischief."

Stiles' grin immediately dropped.

Taken aback by the sudden change of expression, Ray tilted his head in confusion as he took in Stiles' pain filled expression.

"Stiles?", Ray spoke quietly, trying not to startle him, "What's wrong? What did I do?"

The continued silence from the normally sprightly kid was unnerving, Stiles' unseeing eyes filled with what looked like grief while he got lost inside his own head.

"Stiles?"

Stiles shook himself out of his thoughts, prepared to put on his mask like he always had to. Looking up at Ray, he was shocked to see no pity in his eyes, just concern. Taking a deep breath, he kept his eye contact and prepared himself to say out loud what he hadn't since she died.

"That's what my mom called me."

"I-I...um, w-well," Rays eyes widened as he stuttered through a response, unable to form words, "s-sorry Stiles."

"It's ok, Ray."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," taking a deep breath, Stiles really thought about it and surprised even himself when he realized he was telling the truth. A soft chuckle brought Stiles back to reality, and he looked back to Ray to see him laughing.

"It suits you."

Ray chuckled through it, but mentally patted himself on the back when he saw Stiles stand up just a little taller. He looked from the device in his hand to the child with magic in front of him, and his face fell when he realized he could go home. Looking back to Stiles, Ray tried to reason out in his head the conversation he was about to have.

"Thank you, Stiles."

Something in Stiles' face shifted, and Ray realized his expression gave away more than he had meant.

"Why does that sound like a goodbye?"

"Because I have to go home," Ray's eyes misted over and his tears threatened to fall. The only thing keeping himself together was knowing that he had to. For Stiles.

He waited for an outburst. Crying. Denial. Hatred. Some sort of emotion he would've expected from a kid about to lose something.

"Will I ever see you again?"

But Ray had underestimated him before.

There was nothing of the sort. No crying, or denial, or hatred. None of that. Just a simple question.

"Uh...Uh, I-I," Ray stumbled over his words, not knowing how to say it was likely that they wouldn't. That the odds were against them, that the logic behind their meeting was one in a million and the probability of meeting again was less than that. And yet again...here he was, across from someone who knew magic, friends with a human spark.

So math be damned.

"Yes. Yes, you will."

Stiles grinned, and something in his eyes said that he knew Ray believed it. He rushed forward to hug Ray, holding on tightly. Ray hugged him back, scared to let go. Stiles pulled back first, looking at Ray with a bright grin and brighter eyes.

"I knew it," and with that, he turned around and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> So this took a long ass time but I got a new work out! I might make this part of a larger series but not quite sure yet, regardless I hope y'all enjoy cause this was so much fun to write! Until next time my loves!!


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